


Balestra

by predatoryfox



Category: Freakytits - Fandom, Joan Ferguson - Fandom, Wentworth - Fandom, vera bennett - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/predatoryfox/pseuds/predatoryfox





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Researcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Researcher/gifts).



The moon shone down through the sky light onto two sleeping bodies. One, with a mess of black and silver hair strewn on the pillow, her naked back showing taunt muscles, her arm flung around the other, smaller body. The small one lay with her leg dangling over the bed. She was snoring every so slightly. They were two completely different creatures, but in this room, in this moment, they looked like lovers in a well-worn puzzle, their bodies aware of each others every movement, even in sleep.

Joan woke with a start from a bad dream, she'd had them often, and allowed her eyes to focus in the dark on Vera. For the better part of an hour, while the sun rose, she stared at Vera's bare breasts, rising and falling rhythmically with her breathing. Finally when she felt like could just look no longer, she lay her head down between them and listened to Vera's fluttering heart. She was able to close her eyes and let her mind go completely blank, simply focusing on matching her breathing with Vera's in the absolute silence.

"Vera?" Joan whispered, not expecting an answer.

There was none but a hand, heavy with sleep, landed on her head and began to stroke it very gently.

"Vera, if I asked you to do something for me, would you?" Joan asked into Vera's naked skin.

A groan was the only answer.

"I know making love has been," Joan paused to find the right words, "one-sided for the most part."

No answer.

"Vera, I want to experience something with you. Something I'm sure will be different for you. Are you willing to try something? For me? For us?"

"Mmm. Whatever you want. Go back to sleep. It's Sunday."

Joan grinned to herself and closed her eyes. Vera's heartbeat and breathing allowed her to slow her mind and finally fall back into a deep sleep.

Joan didn't know that Vera had barely heard a word Joan had uttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Domestic bliss was not a word that could be used in regards to the pairing of Joan and Vera. At work Joan remained cold and professional, she even tried to schedule it so they rarely worked the same shift together. This was for Vera's safety, Vera had been told time and time again, but it was hard to believe that Joan was not just embarrassed of her sexuality or of their union.   
It did make sense to Vera on some level though, because she was not prepared to face the backlash if her colleagues, or even worse, the inmates discovered she was the head honcho's pet. She could barely even admit to herself that she enjoyed the fairer sex. No, not the fairer sex. Joan. Just Joan.

They kept separate homes, and almost always slept in their separate beds. On the very rare occasion though, if Vera played her cards right, she could could encourage Joan to spend the night if neither of them had to work the next day. On these nights, Vera would have planned ahead and wore the right clothes that would give a hint of the right body parts. She would have worn the right perfume that Joan had bought her, and said the right things that would cause Joan to raise her eyebrows. She'd tease and laugh and be sure to play with her hair. Vera knew that it was always Joan that made the sexual decisions. It was always a coordinated familiar dance of who initiated, what touches were most enjoyed and what could be done to up the ante, but Vera knew never to overstep what she knew was part of their dance. Vera had to learn fast that if she tried to improvise their comfortable script, Joan would gently push Vera away and change the subject. Joan was in charge with their bodies, just like she was in charge in every other portion of her life.

Vera could count on one hand how many times in the last 8 months that Joan had let Vera bring her to orgasm, and those were generally when she'd had way too much to drink on a particularly hard day at work. She'd never been allowed to use her mouth either, and Joan had always told her exactly what to do. It made Vera feel a little inadequate at times, but she knew that Joan had a way about her and so Vera just appreciated and loved that Joan let her touch her at all, because when she did come it was like unleashing a volcano. Authority, control and order had to be released or it would implode, and Vera found it completely sexually satisfying to watch her panther growl and arch and swipe like the wild beast she was.

On the nights that Joan stayed over, sex was usually lengthy and would move about the house. Joan was not someone who found delight in always lying together in quiet movements in bed. When Vera had cried out and dug her nails into Joan, this was the cue that Vera had had enough and Joan would go put on a pair of lavender silk pajamas pants, the only thing she ever left at Vera's. Joan would sleep topless, but never naked, and this was the cue to Vera that Joan would sleep beside her and share the night in her bed. Any time Vera saw those silk pants come out of the drawer, it was almost as good as the sex itself. Vera knew then to go shower and when she'd come to bed, Joan would be there with her reading glasses on, browsing through a magazine. In the short time while they would lie in bed together before sleep would overtake them, Vera felt then that this was the only domestic bliss she'd need.


	3. Chapter 3

In every facet of Joan's life, she felt the overwhelming need to have absolute control of her actions and a predictability of schedule. It wasn't solely from wanting power, although that contributed greatly to it, but having the comfort of routine allowed the receptors in her brain to align properly so she could function at an optimum level of efficiency. There were times though that Joan wished she did not carry the great weight of responsibility. It was exhausting to maintain this facade at all times in her public life. Sometimes, when she was sore and worn-out, when her brain was screaming at her to give up, she wished that someone else could take control of her and make the important decisions. In the past, during these moments, she would put herself into the hands of strangers. Paid strangers. That was when she was younger though, and was not a public figure. If the newspapers got a hold of what she used to participate in, they'd have a field day. Now, she simply had to keep her head down and hope for the feeling to pass.

In Joan's attic there was a dusty old box labelled, "Xmas decorations". Inside though there was but anything that could be used to celebrate the birth of our Lord. Joan wasn't even sure why she mismarked the box or even why she kept it hidden. It hadn't been opened in nearly a decade, but after Joan had asked Vera to join her in a new experience in the wee hours of that morning, she had brought the box down and put it on the kitchen table. She stood with arms crossed, not ready to open it yet. A younger version of herself had been a different person last time this box was put away. Now though, there was feelings involved, and trust. And Vera who could not hurt a fly.  
She opened the box and all the memories rushed back. The creaking leather, the anticipation, the total vulnerability. The pain. Delicious pain that took her to a place where she could focus on only it and nothing else. The relinquishment of control to ease that part of herself had been worth every cent.

After Joan had removed some of her old favourites from the box and lovingly touched them over, she realised that many things would need to be replaced. She also realised that introducing Vera to this part of herself could be dangerous. Vera was a born follower, and Joan needed her to lead. Joan absolutely craved being in control of their love making, but what she was asking wasn't about making love. She hoped Vera understood this and could follow through with what was being asked of her.

With a shake of her head, Joan realised that she should take the guess work and possibility for confusion on Vera's part out of the equation and map everything all out. This way Joan could get exactly what she wanted, and Vera could have direction, the virgin delight that she was. Joan sat at the table with pen and paper with her old companions for inspiration.

Dearest Vera...


	4. Chapter 4

It was not until the next time that both Joan and Vera had a Sunday off together that Joan invited Vera over to her house for dinner. Joan had made the request though that she pick Vera up first so they could run a few errands together. Vera assumed they'd get some take-away and a bottle of wine.

Once they had pulled into the parking lot of the tack shop, Vera looked over questioningly at Joan.

“We’re going riding?“

Joan just smirked, “not quite.”

"I don't understand."

"Just wait. You will soon." Joan led the way.

The bell over the door announced their entry, and the man at the counter simply looked up with the hint of a nod. Joan had smiled at him in recognition and strode towards the back of the store. Vera had to trot to keep up.The door at the back was marked “fire exit” but Joan pushed through with intent and Vera was surprised to find themselves in another small shop. Vera’s mouth hung open and when she looked up at Joan, her eyes were smiling at the shock she’d caused.

“We’re going shopping, Vera. You’re going to learn something new today."

"Joan, is this what you meant the other day? What are you asking from me?"

Joan leaned down and kissed Vera's gaping mouth. "I'm asking you to trust me."

The shop they had entered was not very well lit, but it was easy to see the type of establishment Joan had taken her. The innocent, naive part of Vera's brain wanted her to turn tail immediately. This place was deviant and bad. She had been taught that anyone who dressed like this, who did these things was sick in the head. Sure, Joan sometimes cried out in pleasure when Vera bit her during a passionate moment, but she had no idea that it would come to this. Still, the longer she stood here crushing Joan's hand with her own, the more curious she became.

“What do you think of the smell in here, Vera?” Joan questioned.

It smelled rich and musky. It smelled like her uncle’s hunting cabin and that brought back fond memories.

“It’s…nice.” Words were still failing her.

She was trying to take in everything around her. She felt like she should be getting in trouble for being in here, just like when she got caught reading smutty novels by her mother when she was young.

An older gentleman approached them. His handlebar moustache curled above his overly white smile.

“Ms. Ferguson. It’s been a long time.”

Joan reached forward and took his hand. “It has, Hawthorn, it has. This lovely girl needs to be fitted."

Barton extended his hand to Vera, "My pleasure. Please, this way”.

Joan let the man lead her away and when Vera turned back to gaze in bewilderment at Joan, the corner of her mouth was curled. “Hawthorn, be gentle. I want her in cerise embellishments. I’m going to look at a few things. She’s very green, so have patience.”

Before she was whisked behind a curtain she saw Joan mouth, "Trust me."

Behind the chintzy beaded curtain, Vera stood staring at herself in a three-way mirror.

Fitted? Fitted for what?

"And Hawthorn? Make sure she's comfortable."

Vera could detect a smirk in Joan's voice.

"Arms up, please." Ordered Handlebar.

Vera was almost pulled off balance by the measuring tape being pulled high and backwards around her chest and then waist.

"Erm.."

"Shoe size?"

"Seven...Umm, what's going on here?"

"Hands out, please."

Vera was too bewildered to not comply. The measuring tape was whipped around her wrist and then from wrist to elbow.

It wasn't until Handlebar stuffed the soft tape into his pocket and started scribbling measurements onto a notepad that he bothered to look her in the eye, "Why, Ms. Ferguson is buying you some leather, you delightful little creature. Now, did you want a dressage whip or a riding crop?"

What?!

"Jooooan!"


	5. Chapter 5

"What seems to be the issue?" Joan strode in, hands on hips.

Vera looked up at Joan, then at Handlebars, and back again. "Just...I." Vera stuttered. "What?!"

Handlebars smiled, Joan smirked. They clearly enjoyed whatever game was being played. It angered Vera slightly to see the two of them smile knowingly at each other above her head. Like she was the only child at an adults' party.

She realised too late that she had huffed and threw up her arms, "Is this some kind of joke? I get a sense of where we are, and I have an inkling of what goes on here, but what's my role in all this?" She unconsciously matched Joan's stance, "I mean, really?"

Joan chuckled softly, "How about we approach this from a different angle? Hawthorn, could you give us a minute?" She gently guided Hawthorn through the curtains, then turned and firmly grabbed Vera by the shoulders. "It's like this. I want you to play a role in a sort of play. You get to be a character with lines and a costume and everything. You get to be the main star." Joan turned Vera back around to face the mirror. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Vera rolled her eyes, "Don't be so condescending."

Joan's lips thinned out, "Fine." There was a long pause where they simply stared at each other through the mirror. "To add another dimension to our relationship, to work on building complete trust, I'd like you to dress up, constrain me and be a cold, calculated sexual deviant." Joan sucked her teeth, "Is that clear enough, Vera?"

Vera's mouth open and closed like a goldfish out of water.

"Hawthorn, come back in please and bring a chair. I see I need to go through some basics here." Joan let go of Vera's shoulders, "this will take a bit longer than I had scheduled."

Joan sat, crossed her long legs and raised her eyebrows, "well, let's get on with it shall we?"

Joan had been right, Vera had learn many things that afternoon. She'd been taught where to strike, basic knots and how to properly lace up a corset. She learned that leather was very expensive; the sound of a flogger's thud was provocative; and that Joan expected quite a lot from her. It was Joan's lip bite through it all and the frequency with which she cleared her throat that allowed Vera to realise that she was willing to venture into unknown territory if it meant that Joan would be turned on by all of *this*.


	6. Chapter 6

Joan had insisted that the two were not to see each other until a given date; the day where Vera would be formally introduced to a different lifestyle. Joan had even made sure that they were not scheduled on the same days, and so this created an anticipation between them that could be likened to waiting for Christmas morning.

If you were to parallel the preparation for the extension of their relationship, it would almost be laughable. In the days leading up to their agreed upon date, Vera would come home, eat at the sink, shower and then crawl into bed with the books she had furtively bought and shoved into a paper bag. She'd almost thrown up when a saleswoman had approached her in the erotica section. Consensual Sadomasochism: How To Talk About It and Do It Safely, and The Sexually Dominant Woman: A Workbook for Nervous Beginners. Their pages had been dogeared, certain pages highlighted, notes in the margins. It could not be said that Vera was not thorough when she needed to study for an exam. On top of all that, Joan had also given her notes to follow based on her specifications. Those terrified her.

Joan had passed them to her, tied up with a red ribbon, along with a bottle of Pinot, “Put these to rote”.

The safe word was Balestra and she was not to stop until that was mentioned. She was wear leather gloves at all times, but she was free to use her mouth as she pleased. She was to make sure she articulated, and of utmost importance she was not to use Joan's name. She was to be unrelenting, stern, disgusted, and demanding. How in God’s name could she manage that? With Joan? All she could do was read and re-read her notes and hope she could give Joan what she wanted. She had been specific enough.

Joan, on the other hand, did not have to mentally prepare at all. She did, however, go out and buy Vera a pair of real silk stockings. While Vera had been pouring over texts, Joan had sat at the kitchen table with newspapers spread out so she could polish leather and take gun oil to the wooden parts of her instruments so they'd shine. She'd used that time to work on making a playlist for the occasion and cleared all the furniture out of her spare room so that there was an empty space just for their use. She'd polished the wood floors on her hands and knees until they'd gleamed. This way she'd be able to see Vera's reflection in the floorboards without her knowledge. It'd be her own secret indulgence. There were moments in each of these tasks that a smile would appear on Joan's face. It had been so long, so very long.


	7. Chapter 7

The minutes had ticked by in an angry red, reminding Vera that she’d yet to fall back to sleep. She stared at the alarm clock, willing for the morning to come. She’d woken up from a dream where she and Joan had gone ahead with their agreement and it had gone horribly wrong.

Vera had been an utter disappointment and had gone against every single one of Joan's requests. Joan had spit out the safe word with disgust and had told her she wasn’t interested in Vera anymore, while also telling Vera that she should quit her job at the prison. Joan’s face had changed into her mother’s and had spouted terrible, degrading things. Vera had felt worthless.

Vera had woken up in a cold sweat, thankful that it was all a dream, but then remembered that in less than twenty-four hours, she would have to go to Joan’s and proceed with what had been written down in Joan’s letter; what she’d consented to. She'd groaned. The duffel bag she’d packed the night before sat like an imposing black reminder on her dresser.

Another minute clicked by and still all she felt was anticipatory anxiety. Nineteen hours, twelve minutes, and thirty-three, no, thirty-two seconds til showtime. After deciding that sleep would not come, she turned on her bedside light and opened up one of her books so she could do some more review. Vera had never liked tests as a school girl, and this felt like the night before an exam that would either pass or fail her.

* * * * * *

Her leather supple and burnished, Joan lay each toy side by side on a rack like old, faithful friends together for a reunion. She loved everything about the feeling of holding a hide that once encased the flesh of a wild beast. She could turn that beast into something that she controlled, or could be controlled by. The other instruments served their purpose, sure, but leather, oh leather, was what Joan liked best. The animal fur she'd laid on the middle of the spare room had been something she'd taken from her father's house after he'd died. Virginal white, Tibetan lamb. It was ironic when she felt like she was bringing an animal to slaughter when she would be the one with throat exposed, holding back the animal cry.

The doorbell rang, and so Joan gazed around at what would be Vera's work space and nodded with approval. Time to begin.

* * * * *

Vera had passed Joan through the threshold with dismissal and headed to where she'd been previously directed.

"Come, you disappointment. Your hair is a mess. Your clothes are shabby. How can you live with yourself looking like that. I suppose it's up to me to make you presentable?" Vera had wrinkled her nose in disgust, just like Joan had requested and without eye contact headed down the hall, her dangerously high heels clicking sharply.

Joan couldn't help but grin down into her chest as she followed the little, script following spitfire.

Vera had demanded that Joan strip down naked and kneel on the fur rug. She'd lost her composure ever so slightly as Joan, who never showed any weakness, looked bashful while removing each item of clothing and folded them neatly into a small pile at her feet. The boar bristle brush she used to stroke through Joan's thick mane, make her hair shine brilliantly. Vera was finding pleasure in being above Joan while performing this task. She could smell Joan's jasmine shampoo and run her fingers through the glossiness. She was allowed to take as long as she wanted, just like in every other tasks she'd been asked to accomplish. When she'd come in here, she'd had a hard time and wanted to apologise for being so mean. Vera couldn't fathom being mean to someone who clearly cared for her, but this wasn't being mean, this was simply play-acting. Vera set down the brush she knew would later be used to deliver a few swift cracks to Joan's round, available behind and began to plait Joan's black and silver into a fishtail plait. She put utter focus into an easy task that was a calming lead-in for the both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

Vera held out each article of clothing for Joan, watching her pull up a black stockings ever so slowly, she could see Joan glancing at Vera out of the corner of her eyes as she smoothed the silk around her upper thigh. She deliberately gave only one piece at a time so that she could watch Joan strip in reverse with deliberate delay. Vera found this process to be terribly erotic. Having some power over Joan was already proving to be entertaining, to say the least.

"I had to buy those at a speciality store, you know, because you're so..." Vera began.

Joan shook her head and mouthed, "no".

"Tall..." Vera finished. Of course she knows!

While watching Joan hook the stockings to a garter Vera even felt compelled to tell Joan to kneel again so she could put on Joan's bra. This wasn't part of the script, but she felt an urgent need to put her hands upon Joan in a way that was not demanding. She hooked the back with ease, then ran her hands down Joan's front, allowing her thumbs to rub under the lace tops then up her collarbone and to Joan's exposed throat. She tightened her fingers around the tense, sinewy muscles, then released.

"Don't move."

In Vera's letter, Joan had asked for Vera to choose Joan's clothing for the occasion and to go back to that tack shop to choose something specific to Vera's tastes. Getting the lingerie had been fairly easy, but going back to that darkly lit place alone was so intimidating. Hawthorn had been accommodating; he had brought out different styles until she chose something that actually curiously gave her a shiver when she thought of Joan wearing it for her.

Vera took the leather collar from her duffel bag and approached Joan. She knelt down as well so that they were eye to eye and slipped it around her neck very gently.

"You need this..." Vera said, trying to remember what she'd been instructed. "Umm, you need this because you're an animal and need to be shown who," Vera broke eye contact, "owns you." She almost giggled. Getting into the head space was proving to me more difficult than she'd thought. Saying these things out loud was so different than re-reading it a million times over.

While Vera tightened the collar, she leant in and took a deep smell of both the leather and of Joan. A subtle purr came from Joan's throat.

During the process of dressing, Joan said not a word. When she stood, her long legs rose into the heart shape of her bare bottom, the black garter drawing lines along her white skin. Her long plait narrowing into an arrow to address the fleshiness below. Vera had to swallow hard. She was incredibly turned on until she remembered that after Joan had dressed herself, it would be Vera's turn to begin with the tools that were so completely foreign.

She had to clear her throat to break the silence, "come here and dress me."

Vera had almost said, "I need your help" and "please" but that wouldn't have cut it.

* * * * *

Vera paced back and forth, the click of stilettos ringing out on the shiny hardwood floor. She tapped the riding crop against the leather of her boot nervously, with uncertainty. The corset was forcing her to take shallow breaths. As she paced, she caught a proper glimpse of herself in a mirror, standing behind Joan and realised how powerful she looked; how wasp-like her waist was.

The cue cards in her other hand had been color-coded. Dialogue, actions, everything had been written out in minute detail and Vera, nervous as she was, felt that if she could not burn it to memory she’d mess it all up, and while Joan was incapacitated she had one last chance to do a once over. Wearing heels this high was difficult enough, walking in them without clopping around like a newborn horse was likely where her brain was deciding to focus instead of trying to remember what she should and should not say. If she paced any further, she’d surely wear a path around Joan.

A growl emitted low and frustrated made her stop. She knelt, lifted the blindfold, looking Joan in the eye and removed the gag.

 

“What?”

 

“Did you not read the instructions? Exude some confidence and for the love of God, Vera, be a little more ruthless. Be hard. I wrote it all out. Try harder or what’s the point? Just because I can't see you doesn't mean I can't hear you.” Joan grumbled.

 

“Sorry…”

 

“Don’t apologise.” Joan opened her mouth again, awaiting the gag to be put back in.

 

Vera found that a lot of what Joan had laid out for her off-putting, the gag ball most of all. She'd wanted to hear Joan's purrs and murmurs, but Joan had begged her with puppy dog eyes in a tone so unlike the Governor. It was all part of the script, of course.

Joan had a spreader shined up and ready, but that was far above what Vera was able to process. Joan had put in her note that Vera was able to choose any or all of what was presented, but certain rules must be followed and that was that Joan was restrained somehow at all times. For Vera's safety. For her own safety.

Vera found that a small part of herself really did enjoy having Joan restrained like this. Joan was bend at the waist, her arm cuffs shackled to her ankles. She couldn't walk, she couldn't kneel without falling. She was truly immobile until Vera decided otherwise.

Vera realised in a spark that it was very arousing to have the upper hand completely for the first time in their sexual relationship. Of course at any point Joan could tell her to stop or direct her, but she didn't want to mess up on her first try. The ingrained part of Vera still wanted to please her tall panther. Besides, at this angle she could tell that Joan was already enjoying this. Her black and silver tangles were showing the tiniest glistening.

"You've been a big disappointment to me lately. It's a shame that it's had to come to this." Vera laid the cue cards on the lone stool in the room and cracked the whip into her gloved palm.

Here we go!


	9. Chapter 9

Goosebumps travelled up and down Joan's arms as she felt the tip of the riding crop dust along her spine. The click of heels echoed in the empty room. Joan couldn't help but bite down into the gag ball, awaiting a strike that she felt would follow shortly after such a tender touch, but none came.

"You're such a cruel individual, you know. It's no wonder you want this."

The leather ran up and down the back of Joan's legs in a delicious tickle. "I've seen the real you, and a punishment is exactly what you need. You need to feel the pain you've inflicted on others. You're quite cruel and you need to be taught a lesson."

Suddenly everything went quiet. Joan strained to hear where Vera was standing, but all she could hear was her own breathing. She realized in a twinge of disappointment that the script she'd given Vera may have been a bit more than she could manage. Still, hearing soft-spoken Vera spit such venom at her was almost worth stopping early. Just when she was about to roll her eyes under her blindfold at the fact that Vera had given up so early, she jerked to attention at a searing heat that was spreading around the small of her back. Joan's nostrils flared as her entire body's muscles tensed involuntarily. Nearly as unexpectedly as the heat had started, it dissipated and she felt an oiliness begin to dribble down into her behind. She wished desperately that she could see what Vera was doing to her. Whatever was causing the heat wasn't an item that Joan had left out for Vera's use.

There was still no noise from Vera, when Joan realised that she must have removed her boots. Smart move, Moth. Good girl. Suddenly, and out of nowhere Joan jerked forward with a grunt as Vera's gloved hand hit the fleshiest part of Joan's behind with as much crack and power as she could muster. Joan groaned into the gag. The smack had collected the reverberation right into a tingling at Joan's clit and made it throb. Joan was just catching her breath from the first contact when another attack of searing heat caused her to unexpectedly mewl into rubber.

"I ordered it just for you." Suddenly Vera was at Joan's side, whispering into her ear. "I couldn't bring myself to buy it in the store, but I did get it sent to the house. Can you guess what it is? I can tell that you like it, you twisted woman."

Joan's clit twitched again and a small gush lubricated her swollen lips. She turned her blind eyes towards Vera's voice, but it was no longer there. Who was this creature, and where was her Vera? A switch turned over in Joan's brain, when she realised that her little Vera got it. Well, perhaps she didn't get it all, but it seemed like she had a very firm grasp of what it was.

"Since you can't tell me no, I'm taking off these gloves. They're all greasy." Vera asserted. "Groan all you want, but I need to feel you. Besides, you said I could take as long as I wanted and I want to take a very long time with the next thing. Having gloves on will make it difficult."

It took a while for Joan to realise that the room smelled of peppermint, and finally it clicked. The heat, the searing heat at the most tender part of her spine was an oil candle. Right when Joan grinned with pride against the tension in her mouth, she felt Vera's small hands massage the flesh of her behind. They kneaded and her small thumbs slipped in between her cheeks and lightly rubbed Joan's heated and puckered ass. Vera moaned loud enough to cause Joan's to emit lubrication and shudder. Her back was beginning to ache from being bent over, but it was so worth it. That moan confirmed that Vera was enjoying herself. The fact that Vera had purchased something for the intention of providing pleasure and pain, without Joan's say-so was proof enough.

Without warning, Vera removed Joan's blindfold but did not remove her restraints. Vera returned behind Joan and knelt, gazing intently at Joan through her legs.

"Don't look away. Not even for a second. Keep looking at what I'm doing to you." Vera demanded.

A sweat was beginning to collect at Joan's temples and the blood collecting in her upturned face made it a delightful shade of deep pink, which matched the hand outline that Vera had left upon her flesh. Joan was able to watch with both anticipation and terror as Vera licked her lips and guided her soft mouth towards Joan's centre. This was something Joan had never allowed Vera to do in the past, and it terrified her that she would not enjoy it and would ruin this experience for Vera. It was an odd dilemma she found herself in. To be ashamed that a very real and normal act of cunnilingus would not bring her to orgasm, but violence against her person could bring her very near that brink. Joan knew she was not a normal individual. She knew that Vera had never performed this act before, but it seemed that she was neither ashamed nor hesitant. It did not take long for Joan, however, to sigh inwardly as Vera's tongue rolled around and her lips kissed softly at her in a way that was like being tickled by a butterfly.

Vera pulled away ever so slightly and groaned into Joan's thigh. "How could you let me wait this long. You taste like heaven."

In her long career of kink, Joan actually blushed.


	10. Chapter 10

Vera knew from experience that when Joan was nearing orgasm, she would take hard puffs through her nose like a racehorse at full tilt. She wouldn't moan, she wouldn't grind her teeth, nothing to let Vera know until a powerful experience rolled through and Joan would let the overwhelming feeling rush through her like a tsunami. Because of this, Vera had to make sure that she kept a keen ear on Joan's breathing while she let her tongue and fingers explore Joan. It was a difficult task, since she was absolutely entranced at the essence of Joan's core.

As she knelt behind Joan, she could sit back and really look at what she'd been asked to stay away from. She was able to spread Joan open and trace along her edges, delicate like petals of a blooming rose. The oil she had let pour over Joan had made it easier for her to glide her fingers around in a teasing way. The books she read had talked about denying an orgasm, and that's what she intended, but at the same time having this power to do this was making it hard to hold back. At times when she would look up and meet Joan's gaze, she was unsure if the intense stare meeting hers was angry or not. She knew if she removed the gag, Joan may very well spit out the safe word, and she desperately wanted to taste Joan.

The peppermint mixed with Joan's slickness to make a delightful combination that was border lining on a delicacy for Vera. She wanted to bottle it and keep it. Making love was different, because even though she'd always be able to smell Joan in the air it was nothing like being up close and personal. The musk, the saltiness was just addictive.

Just as she'd read in her books, she drew the alphabet with her tongue over Joan's clit and paid attention to any subtle movements that could indicate that it was more pleasurable than the others. Vera found it oddly satisfying to perform this strange little autonomy experiment, but with no knowledge on how else to deliver pleasure orally and properly, she followed what she'd read. What a good student Vera was turning out to be.

While drawing light circles with one finger around Joan's entrance, and pinching the flesh of Joan's inner thigh with the other, she notice that Joan's breathing had changed slightly. This was a cue to stop immediately and follow through with one of Joan's requests. Vera stood, and without a word took out the gag and slipped the blindfold back on.

Joan licked her dry lips and opened her mouth, "please," was all that she whined in a begging voice Vera had never heard emitted from Joan before. "Please, Vera. Please. Don't stop."

"Hush." Vera replied as she walked over to the toy rack. "You get what you earn. You don't get to ask for anything." It was at this point that Vera realized that she was no longer remembering the script word for word, but simply saying what she felt was appropriate. She found that being the power holder in this activity to be actually very, very pleasing. It was no longer a forced act. The moisture between her legs was a physical clue to this fact. Joan begging her for pleasure was beyond what she'd ever dreamed.

Vera strode over to the toy rack and removed a long plaited leather leash. This wasn't for any kind of animal play, but it did have a purpose. It was the one thing that Vera was actually nervous about because it could actually really do damage to Joan's person. Joan had requested this particular task because it was one of absolute and complete trust. Joan was putting her safety in Vera's hands which made Vera felt honored in a strange way, but she still did not know if she could perform this task with accuracy and it greatly worried her. The logistics of Joan's weight and height would make this an act of precision or of great harm.

She approached Joan who now was actually an alarming red in her upside down state and knelt. "I'm turning the collar around and attaching the leash now. Are you ready?" Vera wanted to make sure to clear this act with Joan, even if it was breaking out of character but for a moment.

Joan turned her head towards Vera's voice and whispered, "please do."

With a clink, the trigger snap clipped onto Joan's thick leather collar and Vera twisted the leash into her hand until Joan's head titled backwards and she faced the ceiling. This time, kneeling to put her mouth on Joan was causing Vera some hesitation.

"It's okay" Joan said reassuringly. "You can do this."

It was this break from character and of the kindness in her tone that allowed Vera to take a deep breath and use the long end of the leash to give Joan a few good firm whips along her thighs and behind, then fall to her knees and plunge two fingers into Joan and while pushing her tongue up against her in a steady and even rhythm. Keeping the leash taunt while trying to enjoy Joan turned out to be very distracting. She did her best though, and while rubbing the spongy nut of Joan's G-spot she began to hear Joan's heavy breathing again. Vera kept at it, keeping a tight hold and lapping at her with a firm tongue. Just like usual, the breathing turned itself into a very loud, very animal-like groan and Joan's knees gave out on her. The only thing keeping Joan from falling forward was the leash holding her neck backwards, which also cut off her air supply enough to cause her to grunt and gasp. Poor Vera found out the hard way that being unprepared to pull back on a weight that pitched forward could really strain one's shoulder.

Vera had been told to hold Joan back like this until Joan stopped breathing all together for the total of fifteen seconds. She strained and held fast, counting each passing second with alarm. The second she reached her order, she eased Joan forward so that she knelt with an intake of air like someone breaking the surface of a deep dive. Joan slumped forward, letting her forehead touch the ground while she caught her breath.

"Was...was that good?" Vera asked in a stutter.

Joan turned her head slightly towards Vera and with a great heaving breath managed to hiss at her. Vera startled, but realized that this meant yes and Vera was not to break character at all. She had accomplished it. Vera found it slightly disturbing that she felt great pride in accomplishing Joan's requested of an erotic asphyxiation without managing to kill her. Self congratulations was in order, which actually made her chuckle to herself. To each their own, I guess.


	11. Chapter 11

As the pounding of Joan's heart began to abate and the burning in her throat became just a dull ache, she forced herself up into a kneeling position. The welts on the back of her thighs stung, her neck felt tender but the rest of her body still tingled with an afterglow. Her mouth was so dry that running her tongue over her lips did nothing to help their cracked soreness. She wanted water, but she didn't want to crack and ask for it. 

"You'll be no good to me if you pass out. Sit for a while. Let the blood run back from your head." Vera said out of the silence that hung in the air, then Joan heard the soft pads of Vera's stockinged feet move away from beside her.

Joan wished she could reach up and rub her throat under her collar. She hoped it would not bruise. Imagine having to explain that at work. It was unthinkable. If even a hint of a mark bloomed, she would have to pretend to take a last minute holiday; she did have the power to take time off whenever she wanted. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, even though having a mark she knew came from Vera visible to everyone was slightly compelling. 

Again, no sound from Vera. Joan swallowed dryly and wished for something to happen. The anticipation she felt now that she'd already had an orgasm was curious. She'd had her bit, but what else did Vera have up her sleeve. Perhaps Vera was already done. Joan had been sitting there now for quite a while she realized, because her legs were starting to fall asleep. She wanted to call out for Vera, but that would be worse than asking for a drink. 

Now that her legs were asleep, she let her chin fall on her chest and closed her eyes under the mask. She was beginning to find herself both bored and tired. Where was Vera anyhow? Just as she was letting out a grand sigh, a glass was brought to her lips and she couldn't help but cough then desperately drink, the water dribbling down her chin. 

"Thank you." Joan emitted with a gasp after Vera took the glass away from her mouth.

"I read that it's important to stay hydrated." Vera confessed.

"Pucker up for a second." 

Joan complied and was surprised to feel something greasy being delicately wiped over her lips. 

"I'm not kissing that chapped mouth of yours."

Joan wasn't sure if she was annoyed or enamoured with Vera in this moment. She was not used to sure tenderness in scene. She generally wanted to be treated like dirt, but there were obviously feelings involved this time and Vera clearly wanted to please Joan and make sure she was comfortable, no matter how she worded things. Joan decided to nod slightly while rubbing the lip chap around to soothe her sore mouth.

"I'm going to unclip your arms from your ankles, but you're to stay kneeling. Understood?"

Joan nodded towards Vera's voice. The minute her arms became unclipped she brought them to her throat. While pressing she decided there shouldn't be any bruising and smiled with satisfaction. While her hand was still at her throat, she couldn't help but let a squeak push itself out of her mouth. What Joan figured was an ice cube was being run around her nipples in a slow and deliberate manner, then Vera's hot mouth pressed down in a delightful change of temperature. Joan found herself desperately wanting to hug Vera's head to her chest, but she sat on her hands instead and let herself groan with satisfaction. The feeling of pins and needles in her legs was quickly forgotten.

The feeling of contracting from arousal and temperature change was driving Joan wild. Vera switched between ice cubes and her mouth, while rolling and pinching Joan's nipples between her fingers. Another build up of moisture and an intense pressure between Joan's thighs was beginning to build. She wanted to tell Vera how proud she was of her, but instead she gave Vera the gift of hearing her groan and mewl and throatily sigh.

As suddenly as the combination of sensations began, they stopped. Joan blindly looked around, hoping to connect somehow with Vera. As she turned her head and sat forward slightly, she felt something hard and cold pressed up against her mouth.

"Open. You need to wet this." Vera ordered. Her voice was unsure and unsteady.

Joan raised her eyebrows and slowly parted her lips in compliance. When she realised what entered her mouth, she both wanted to recoil in horror and also laugh out loud. Vera! Sweet, sweet Vera. What had Joan created?


	12. Chapter 12

Vera had padded out of the room while Joan was tied up and had made her way to the kitchen. She tried with fumbling fingers to undo the back of her corset, but the cords were just too tight and too high up to widen. She could hardly breathe and felt incased. She found that every time she went to kneel or do any real movement at all, she'd get light-headed which was not something she wanted to further experience. In a moment of frustration when her fingers would not cooperate, she pulled a knife from Joan's butcher's block and took a good long swipe at what she could reach, hearing the leather cords rip, until enough had been cut to simply tear the corset off. Joan might be mad, but she hadn't ruined the whole thing. Even if she hid it and took it to Hawthorn, she could surely get it fixed and Joan would be none the wiser.

After she had tidily rolled up the corset onto the kitchen island, she opened the freezer and let a few ice cubes clink into a glass of water, then she leaned up against the counter and waited. She checked her emails on her phone, read some news, looked out the window at passing cars. She deliberately counted how many minutes she was wasting with boredom. When she felt she could wait no longer, she headed back to Joan's spare room with the glass in one hand, a throw pillow from the sofa in the other and something else she had accrued leading the way.

* * * * *

Just like many of the other items she had laid out for Vera, some were just out for shock value. If she was going to be on her knees, she might as well know that she had at least purposefully caused Vera to perhaps emit a little gasp. She had no cause to expect some toys to do anything but see the light of day for a few hours, then return to their box.  
Vera and Joan were not a couple who engaged in strap-on sex, or really use sexual aids of any type. That seemed too common for Joan to use while in a mutual relationship. Besides, using her flesh to cause pleasure was much more rewarding. Knowing it was only her and her alone with no additional extravagances to deliver Vera into the throws of passion made it somehow...better.

What slipped past her lips though, was what she recognized as the dildo that could stretch her out to the point of nearly coming the moment she would guide it inside herself, and Vera was sliding it into her mouth to lubricate it for her. A small part of her wanted to bite down or push it out with her tongue, but she didn't. That particular piece of hardware was something she had used only with herself before Vera, when she needed a full-body orgasm to help put her to sleep. Joan did not particularly like having anything phallus-like near her but this thing was not realistic, and therefore did not feel threatening in her hands. This beast had not been left out for Vera though. This one had been in the bedside drawer. Vera, that little sneak, must have known where it was or had gone looking. Joan was unsure how she felt about Vera looking through her things, but now was not the time to reprimand her. Besides, no matter how much she didn't want it in her mouth, she complied because it meant that Vera had further plans for her.

* * * * *

Vera wasn't really sure if she had put the strap-on correctly into the slot. It felt bulky and odd, and it embarrassed her slightly to have it bouncing up and down in front of her. She had gone stealing into Joan's room to snatch it up. She had seen it the first night she had fell into bed with Joan, but pretended not to. She did not know the protocol of how to approach questioning about another woman's sexual toys. This time though, she didn't have to ask. She tingled with anticipation at how Joan would react to being filled. Would bringing her to the brink be fast or slow? Would Joan scream out for Vera to fuck her harder or faster? So many scenarios were swirling around in her mind as she stood in front of Joan, who seemed to have fallen asleep. She surprised herself by liking the fact that a tired Joan would be woken up to this. Her own little devious plan.

* * * * *

Very had found herself suddenly feeling shy once she had actually had to force her hips in a slow motion towards Joan's trusting mouth. She could sense Joan's tension, and so discovered that she wasn't enjoying having Joan perform this act after all.

"Right. So, that's...that." Vera found herself stuttering as she quickly drew herself back fast enough to cause Joan's head to jerk back involuntarily. She heard the chuff that Joan was trying to hold back and found that she had to bite her lip to stop from defending the break in confidence.

"Stand up." Vera commanded, trying to find her voice again. "Put your hand out and I will guide you." Joan did as she was asked with the hint of a smile still on her lips.

Vera walked Joan over to the stool and then with a quick swipe, brushed the cue cards she no longer needed to the floor. The throw pillow she'd brought in and had tossed towards the seat was quickly collected and laid down for Joan's comfort.

"Lean forward." Vera guided Joan forward, but when Joan did not seem to move fast enough, Vera surprisingly found herself forcing Joan forward so that she landed on her chest with a puff of air being ejected from her lungs.

"I'm going to take off the blindfold. I think you need to see how disappointed I am with you right now." Vera reached over and yanked the blindfold down so that it hung from Joan's neck. She stood with her hands on her hips and looked down at her accoutrement, then back up at Joan. Vera couldn't help but smile when Joan's expression was one of surprised delight. She could tell that Joan enjoyed the fact that Vera had gone against instructions. Perhaps she even enjoyed the fact that Vera had cast aside the leather casement, and stood bare breasted with beads of sweat collecting on her fair skin.

"Two things: I'm going to take off those cuffs and put something else on your wrists." Vera stated while crouching down to slip the cuffs off Joan's wrists. "And I will keep your legs free for better leverage."

Vera was about to rip the toes off Joan's stockings open so that she'd have better grip with bare feet, when she decided in a moment of clarity not to and looked up to meet Joan's smokey stare.

"Wait."

Vera tapped her finger on her parted lips. "I want to watch you take off your stockings." She took a few steps backwards then crossed her arms cross her chest. "Do it slowly. I want you to keep looking at me while doing it."

Joan quickly looked at the floor with the turn of her head. "Yes, ma'am."

The tone in Joan's voice was submissive, but it didn't mirror the smirk of pride on her face or the intense stare that drew Vera in as Joan brought her loose hands down to her thigh and unclipped the garter and let it go. "Pop," she breathed.

Vera crossed her arms tighter over her breasts and sighed slightly.

"Could you watch me from behind?" Joan let the other garter pop, "please?"

Vera shook her head in surprise. Joan showing the first signs of playfulness tonight. She raised one eyebrow. "I don't know. What will I get? You shouldn't be free anyhow. It's a safety concern."

Joan began to slowly unroll one of the garters over her thigh, "I'll be good." She looked down bashfully, "I promise."

Vera realized then that this must be her own reward for playing along so well.

She ran her hand down the shaft of the beast attached to her and glided her tongue over her lips. "I think that can be accommodated. Don't make me regret this decision." Vera honestly didn't care at this point if Joan decided to drop the act and carry her off to the bedroom, because a playful Joan in a submissive role was now so incredibly hot that she could barely take it. She wanted Joan to fuck her with the strap-on she was wearing. So. Very. Desperately.

* * * * *

Vera had almost scampered behind Joan to get a better view of her heart-shaped behind, bent over. Joan began to slowly unroll the second stocking down her thigh, then looked over her shoulder at Vera and blinked slowly like a pleased feline.

"I thank you for showing me some discipline, ma'am." Joan began knowingly. "I hope I've been pleasing."

Vera coughed and sputtered in response and Joan grinned outright. She didn't wait to be asked to lean back over the stool and dangle her arms down expectantly for Vera.

It didn't take long for Vera to approach with a pair of prison-grade handcuffs in hand. The clink of metal sounded out as Vera handcuffed Joan's arms to the stool's legs.

* * * * *

Vera stood back and admired what was before her. She was proud of what she'd allowed herself to say and do. She had wanted to please Joan for all that she'd done for Vera both personally and professionally, but it was a pleasant surprise to find herself more interested in the power dynamic that presented itself in this scenario. Vera liked being told what to do and be moved around like a doll in Joan's hands, but the suggestion that had originally caused utter terror in Vera now found to be affirming her sexuality. She would do anything if it meant that she could touch Joan.

Vera approached Joan and reached her palm out to check Joan for any indication that she was ready for her and was pleased that her fingers came back damp. Slowly she slipped her hands under either side of Joan's garter and with a sharp jerk, brought Joan's ass up against her. She leaned forward and let her fingers part Joan and drift her fingers along Joan's hood and clit. She continued this without thrusting her hips at all, although it admittedly took great focus not to. She leaned forward and licked up the back of Joan's spine and neck, still rolling her fingers around the slick jewel. Joan began to twitch back into Vera, and in little time began her own rhythm of backing herself back into Vera. This way Vera was in a roundabout getting her way - Joan was fucking her, or at least fucking up against her, and that was pretty much the same delicious thing.

* * * * *

Joan found herself desperately wanting to be filled. She realised that she was backing up as hard with as little movement as she had against Vera, and poor Vera was beginning to need to brace herself. Joan didn't care. Hearing Vera groan was only making her quicken her rhythm and thrust her hips forward into Vera's hand. Quicker, harder, faster, and more fervoured until words involuntarily fell out from behind her teeth, "Make me come. Please, please! Maaaaake me come! I need you! NOW!"

Joan was glad to feel Vera immediately begin to swivel her hips and force them forward so that they slammed into each other. Vera grunted and groaned with exertion, but they were broken apart by deep moans.

"Spank me! Give it to me!"

Vera groaned and obeyed. "Goddd! You...Ugh... I love you."

The second Vera's bare hand connected with Joan's flesh, an immediately explosion began to happen within her. Her cunt hungrily ate up the dildo within her, her legs shook and an animal howl came somewhere deep within Joan's being. The vibrations from Joan's fervid pumping had been crushing into Vera's swollen clit, and it was Joan's guttural explosion that almost brought Vera over the edge. She reached up and raked her nails down Joan's back as a instinctual mark of ownership. I did this to you.

Joan did not curse or call for a higher being while a powerful orgasm jolted through her. She found she simply stopped breathing and let it take her over. It rolled through her like waves, over and over while her muscles twitched and spasmed. It was all consuming. It was everything. It was Vera.

Once her toes uncurled and the blood began to seep back into her extremities she melted into a heap. Joan couldn't remember the last time that she'd come like that but she felt amazing. Vera had admitted she'd loved her. Sure, it was in the throws of passion, but she'd said it. Joan decided to hold that information close to her chest. Now was not the time to discuss it. She turned around and happily grinned at Vera, "thank you."

Vera smiled back and went to reach up and cup Joan's cheek, but suddenly she pulled her hand back and removed herself from within Joan.

"I'm not done with you yet." Vera uttered in a tired purr. "Look down."

Joan did. She was beginning to feel the beginnings of post-coital exhaustion. A rest would not be argued.

“I’m going to ask you a series of yes or no question, and you’re to answer them all. Do you understand? Just shake your head yes or no. I don’t want anything else.” Vera said in a voice that was not as convicted as before.

Joan nodded while trying hard to look up and see Vera’s facial expression without being seen. This was completely ad-libbing on Vera’s part and Joan, exhausted as she was, was intrigued as to where this was going. Her letter had requested that once Vera had orgasmed with her, they would be done for the evening.

“Don’t look at me, or I will put the mask back on.” Vera smiled to herself, “don’t test me.”

Joan faced the ground again, but could see the the polished floor that Vera had stopped directly in front of her and had placed something on the floor by her fingers. Joan allowed her finger to inch forward slightly to feel that it was the key for the handcuffs, but since she wasn’t told to pick them up, she left them and waited to see where this was going.

“Are you sated?” Vera questioned.

Joan nodded with a pleased sigh. Her protege had done extremely well.

“Did I do my job well to please you?”

Another nod.

“Good. I’m glad.” Vera said matter-of-factly. “You can feel that there’s a key in front of you. Pick it up.”

Joan fumbled slightly to get it between two fingers and brought it into her grasp.

“Do you think you could look after some aftercare? I need some help. It will be your final act before we can go back to just us again.”

Joan hesitated but nodded again. What on Earth was Vera getting at?

“Look at me, Joan.”

Joan was about to open her mouth and remind her that no names were to be said until they were finished, but Vera spoke first, “Tut, tut. Joan, look at me.”

Joan strained to look up while also trying to slip the key into the handcuff lock as her wrists were beginning to feel the abuse of chafe, and suddenly she dropped the key, along with her jaw. Vera sat mere inches from her with a look on her face that was both satisfied and hungry. Her panties hung from one of her fingers. The strap-on had been discarded.

“Yes or no, Joan. If you get out those cuffs, will you behave yourself?” Vera bit her bottom lip and excruciatingly slowly parted her legs to reveal a slick, inviting centre. Her swollen clit standing out proud and welcoming.

Never before had Joan tried to unlock a pair of handcuffs to desperately and shakily. The key kept slipping past the lock. She cursed under the breath while shaking her head over and over, “No! Good God, woman. No! I can barely move, but a million times, no.”

Vera tilted her head back and laughed. “Good,” she grinned with a crook of her finger.

The lock sprang open.


End file.
